The Sun
by AcousticSlide
Summary: The sun always visits him in his dreams, and the sun begs him to come and shine. But if he moves, he falls. And he doesn't want to fall.


He stood still. He didn't dare to move, because she didn't know if he would fall or not. The sky was a pale blue, and the ground beneath his feet was white. Or was it green? He couldn't tell, it was so bright.

He looked up. The sun was burning pale and amber, and almost had a rectangular look to it. He looked beneath him No that he thought about it, the ground had a square look to it. Little pixel-like sand pebbles dotted the ground. He wanted to move, but he was still afraid he would fall down.

"Look up," someone said. He looked up. The sun looked at him and smiled. "Hello," said the sun, a big, warm smile on it's face. His face was just as pixelated and square as the rest of him. "I'm the sun, and I'm here to help you," the sun said.

He didn't know how to respond to this. How could the sun help him? The sun couldn't walk or run like a man could, and the sun definatley couldn't talk in real life. He opened his mouth, about to say something, but then closed it once more. He was going crazy for sure, he thought.

"You can come up here, you know," said the sun. The sun beckoned him with his beams. But he didn't know how to go up there with the sun. He tried to move, but he was still scared he would fall. He grimaced.

The sun looked hurt. "Why won't you come up?" he said, his voice racked with betrayal. "Don't you want to feel like you belong somewhere?" the sun said, his beams growing dimmer.

He froze. That came up out of nowhere, he thought. Of course he belonged. Why would the sun think any different? He was confused, wanting to scratch his head, but he still didn't want to move. He was still afraid he would fall.

The sun started to cry. "I thought you liked to bask in my light," the sun said, wiping it's glowing tears with it's sunbeams. "I thought that you would want to come shine with me after so many years under my light," the sun cried, leaving him speechless and utterly confused.

He loved the sun, and he loved the warmth of the sun on his skin, but the sun was being ridiculous! He would fall if he moved, and he didn't want to fall. The sun continued to cry, and he started to get annoyed with the sun.

"Don't you realize that this state of lonesome is really self-denial?" the sun finally sniffed. "You've denied to be in the light every time you see me!" said the sun, miserable and morose. "What, do you think I'm some sort of alter-ego? Don't you know I'm just trying to help?" the voice of the sun was no longer warm, but harsh and hot, like sunburn and fire. The sun had a terse tone in it's voice, and he was starting to get nervous.

But the sun did nothing. He simply stared at him with a disappointed look in his golden eyes. He was still afraid he would fall. He didn't want to fall.

The sun could see this in his eyes. "You know, I've think we've had enough of this," he said, his beams shooting down at him.

He fell.

* * *

He woke.

Steve opened his eyes and didn't sit up. He had had that dream before, and it was starting to annoy him. The sun was always assuming he didn't want to be in the light, but he didn't want to fall in the dream. He sighed and buried his nose into the ground. He hated being confused. He turned onto his back, looking at the ceiling, his eyes focusing on the wood patterns carved onto the roof. Wood clashed against stone accents, and the torches cast faint shadows onto the grooves in the wood. He had worked so hard on his home.

He took in a sharp breath. His side hurt, pain like sharp needles stabbed at his flesh, and he sucked in a sharp breath as his blanket brushed the open wound. He had let a zombie cheap shot him while mining. A mistake he would be sure not to make again.

A low hiss came from the front door. Steve sat up slowly, making sure not to make any noise. He reached for his sword which was laying on his side table, his knuckles white from gripping the handle.

He would show the sun that he wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty to protect what was his. He slipped over to the chest across the room and opened it, selecting a cyan wool shirt and slipping it over his bare chest. He buttoned the top buttons. Steve selected the most sharp and hardest axe he had and closed the chest as quietly as he could, securing the axe on his back.

Steve stalked over to the door and pressed his palm to the top of the door. Cold. No tall monster, then. He pressed his palm to the bottom of the door. Warm. A spider, perhaps. He growled inwardly and braced himself for the oncoming attack.

He swung the door open and kicked blindly. His foot connected with the hissing spider and sent it scurrying a few feet back. The spider shrieked and lunged at him again, fangs bared. Steve grunted and blocked the bite, the spider's teeth wrapping around the blade of the sword.

Steve felt the sunlight start to warm his skin as he held of the monster. He hated the sun, and he hated that he dreamed of the sun. He kicked the spider away from him, the spider letting go of the sword and staggering back.

He hated the sun. He hated the spider. He hated the wound in his side that was hampering him from cutting the spider's head off. He slashed at the spider, the monster catching the blade in it's mouth and closing it's jaws with a _snap, _breaking the sword's blade into pieces of shrapnel.

Steve dodged a blow from the spider, rolling away and jumping up quickly. The spider charged. Steve raised his axe and brought it down onto the spider's head, a hollow _squish_ of the skull connecting with the axe blade.

He continued to hack and bring his blade down on the spider, the monster shrieking and spitting all over Steve.

The spider let out one last, horrible scream and puffed into black smoke, leaving a pile of string behind it. Steve picked it up and put it in his pants pocket. He looked up at the sun and rested his axe on his shoulder. This was his life. This is how it was. Steve didn't mind, and he didn't want it to change, not for all of the quiet nights he could have. "I do belong somewhere, Mr. Sun," he said matter-of-factly, grinning to himself. "You're just jealous it's not with you."

He spun on his heel and walked back inside.


End file.
